


Force of the Heavens

by orphan_account



Series: Jegulus Fest [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe- Fantasy Setting, Bandit Regulus, Bandit Remus, Bandit Sirius, Blind Character, Blind Regulus, Crown Prince James, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Hiding amongst commoners, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, King Fleamont, Kingdoms, M/M, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Slow Burn, underground revolutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crown Prince James Potter goes in disguise amongst his people to uncover why his flourishing kingdom is under economic crisis, he doesn't know what he'll discover.  He certainly doesn't expect corruption amongst the Lords, nor an underground Revolution.  He definitely doesn't expect to be bested, and fall for the clever blind bandit, Regulus Black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JA_Authoress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JA_Authoress/gifts).



> dedicated to JA Authoress who gave me this idea from a prompt list. It was going to be posted in one part for Jegulus fest, but I realised it needs several chapters, so...maybe three or four total. x

His back ached and he was _bored_ , and tired, and honestly a little hungry. But his advisors insisted on rambling on and on, and it wasn’t that he didn’t _care_ or that it didn’t matter what was happening in his Kingdom, only that he had no idea how to fix the problem, or how reliable the information really was.

James Potter, Crown Prince of one of the longest-standing royal lines in the Kingdom, was a good person. Truly he was. He cared, and for all that he’d been spoilt as the heir and only child to King Fleamont and Queen Euphemia, his people mattered to him.

But a lot of the Kingdom’s problems were beyond him. The economy wasn’t great, and no one in the advisory room could work out why. People were starving in spite of a decent harvest season, and trade was down—marred by bandits on the main roads.

“Padfoot and Moony,” Lucius said, his sneering voice carrying over the table. “They’re a menace. They are the problem, and they must be stopped. Lord Riddle has already lost enough men to them.”

James tried not to sigh. How much harm could two bandits really be causing? He refused to believe no matter how much trouble they caused, they would be responsible for that much of the economy’s problems. “I don’t think…” But James was cut off by the rest of the advisors murmurs.

James wasn’t overly thrilled with his father’s advisors, either. A few were good, trying to offer sound advice on how to sort out some of these problems, but others were whispering into his father’s ear. “There’s nothing we can do, we must let this play out. Let Riddle handle this.”

That was Lord Malfoy, of course. A poncy aristocrat without any real idea what it was like to be living as a common person. James, of course, didn’t either, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to make things better for his people. And wanting to prove it wasn’t a couple of bandits. There was more going on.

He just had no idea _how_ to do it.

The meeting finally ended, and James was dismissed from the council. Instead of going to his rooms, or even sneaking into the kitchens to chat with the cooks and nick a few sweets, he headed out to the stables. His favourite stable-hand was already out, running the horses, and he wanted to talk things out a bit with someone who didn’t have something to gain by the oppression of the people.

“Oy, Peter. How’re they running today?”

Peter Pettigrew, a man with a passion for animals and an uncommon kindness, grinned at the Prince. “Well enough, your highness. How did your meeting fare?”

James rolled his eyes, brushing his hand over the top of his perfectly tamed hair. “Ah well. The usual. People are starving and poor, there’s talk of a revolution brewing, and the advisors see fit to do nothing. Yet again.”

Peter’s face fell. “Is it Malfoy again?”

James leant on the fence, watching his favourite horse gallop. “It is. And my father, for all that he’s a good man, feels that decisions should be made by vote. The people should have a voice. Only the Lords aren’t speaking for the people. They’re speaking for themselves. It’s been too long since Father went among the people, I think.” As James talked, an idea was forming. “Maybe…”

Peter looked at him carefully. “Oh. Your majesty…I think I know where you’re going with this and I don’t…”

“But don’t you see?” James said, slapping the side of the fence. “If I could get some experience, see the people, find out what’s happening and why…”

“You’d be killed within a day. Kidnapped at best,” Peter said.

“I can defend myself,” James said, puffing out his chest.

“No one would trust you. You’d be recognised.”

James furrowed his brow and looked down at the dark skin on his arms. “Well. There are plenty of people like me, aren’t there?”

“Well yes,” Peter said slowly, “but Sire, your image adorns coins and standards.”

“Artist renditions on gold and silver,” James said waving his hand. He then brought his fingers into his hair, scrubbing and scrubbing until the thick oils had rubbed off, and his hair flew free of its own accord, wild like the wind. He then stared at Peter, and without warning, plucked the glasses from his face and shoved them onto his own nose.

Peter stared, then burst into laughter. “It actually makes a difference, you know.”

James grinned broadly. “I can’t use yours, of course. Can’t see a ruddy thing but…find me a pair with plain glass, can you? And then you and I…”

“Oh Sire,” Peter said quietly, “you know if I joined you on this mission and we get caught, your father would have my head.”

“My father hasn’t executed a soul during his entire reign,” James reminded him. “And our prisons are nearly empty. Trust me, Peter, I would protect you with my life.”

Peter’s face fell, mostly because he could never say no to the Crown Prince. Not just because he was the prince, but because James was a loyal and kind friend. “Well…”

“Excellent,” James said, clapping him on the back. “I’ll make preparations.”

“Sire…what exactly do you plan on telling the King?”

James shrugged as he backed away, flinging his royal cape behind him. “Something brilliant, of course,” he called out with a laugh. “Perhaps we’ll go hunting. See you at dusk Peter!”

*** 

For all James was a brave person and had never backed down from a challenge, he was not entirely secure in his current disguise. Messy hair and glasses, along with being clothed like a commoner would fool only so many. But as they stepped into the tavern with a few pieces of gold, and armed with the intent to listen and perhaps see where things had gone so badly wrong, James found himself blending into the crowd.

Peter took a seat at a long table which had only a few men drinking and eating, and James went up to order. Two bowls of the stew, two tankards of ale, and bread. They hunkered down, and James took a bite, trying not to grimace.

“Just keep your ears open, Petey,” James said. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Yes Si—er. James,” Peter stuttered, finding it far too strange to have James’ name on his tongue.

The pair ate in silence for a while, and whilst they didn’t exactly find information about why the economy was doing so poorly, and why people were starving, James was getting a feel of the crowd. They were downtrodden, many of them tired, and overworked. James didn’t know, however, if it was like this always, or if things were worse than they had been.

He became distracted, however, by a pair of men sat at one of the far tables. They were more jovial than the rest of the crowd, playing game with dice and cards, and clearly taking money. Whilst gambling wasn’t forbidden, his father had a distaste for it, and James had never gotten to see anything like that in play.

Unable to stop himself, he stood up, reaching into his pocket to clutch his gold as he approached. His eyes were drawn to the one who appeared to be the leader. They were both dressed casually, tunic, trousers, boots. But the leader had long hair tied in a plait with a leather thong, and his fringe hung casually over one eye. His face had aristocratic bone-structure, and he looked familiar in a way, though James couldn’t place him.

His companion was quieter, but no less intelligent. His amber eyes shone with something fierce, and James immediately knew that if either of these two were a threat, it was him. He had a young face, which would be disarming to someone untrained to recognise the danger in him. His dark-tawny curls added to the look of innocence, and James felt himself both threatened, and impressed.

After a long moment, the dark-haired one looked up at James, and gave him a bright, lovely smile. “Are you next, my friend?”

James cleared his throat. “I’m unfamiliar with the game.”

“With that accent,” the curly-haired one said, “I’m not surprised. Grow up in a Lord’s manor, did you?”

“Don’t be absurd,” James said, and lowered himself. “I was just not allowed out much.” He said a short prayer to the pantheon of gods that he wasn’t recognised. But he didn’t see a flash of that in either pair of eyes. No, he saw desire in them, perhaps for his money, or his time. Peter was nearby now, but James paid him no mind as he put a gold coin in the table.

“What are you called?” the black-haired one asked as his fingers brushed over the top of the coin. Satisfied that it was real, he sat back, cocking the edge of his boot up on the side of the table.

“James.”

The stranger lifted an eyebrow. “Like the prince?”

“I suppose,” James said with a shrug.

After a moment, the stranger barked a laugh and slapped his hand on the table. “That’s fairly brilliant, James. I’m Sirius, and this here is Remus. And if you’re ready to play, Remus will give you the rules.”

Remus, the curly-haired one, leant forward to explain how the game worked. It was chance, of course, with the dice and the cards, and it seemed to favour James, only he was no fool. He knew Sirius now had a pocket of coins from those who had come before James, so it was clear he was going to lose.

Which he did.

Three games in a row.

But Sirius was grinning and offering to buy another round of ale, and James took him up on the offer. Sirius even rejected a few others who wanted to come for a game. “Closed up for the night, lads,” he declared, waving them off. “Me and my new best friend Jamie are having more drinks.”

*** 

That was the last thing James remembered before waking up hours later, just before dawn. He was stripped down to his tunic and trousers, his money, sword, and daggers gone. His head felt full, spinning, and he groaned, trying to push up from the ground.

Not a few feet away was Peter, looking in much the same state as he was, and he frowned. Scrubbing at his face, he pressed two fingers into his temple as Peter groaned, and sat up.

“They drugged us,” Peter said. “Those gambling bastards. I swear I’ll…”

James held up his hand. “We have more gold with the horses, unless they got away with them as well.”

Peter grimaced as he pushed to his feet, then extended a hand to James. “It’s probably best if we go home, Sire.”

“James,” he corrected gruffly. “And I won’t let being had by some ruffian gamblers distract me from my mission. I know for a fact this Padfoot and Moony are not responsible for the economic devastation and I intend to find out what it is.”

Peter let out a small sigh, but carried on following James back to the stables where their horses were still boarded. James paid the stable-hand, then they mounted. He had water and a bit of food in his pack, passing bread and cheese on to Peter, and they ate carefully as they reached the main road. 

“We should go into Hogsmeade,” James said. “I know a lot of travellers pass through there. If we’re to find out any information at all…”

“Si—er James. I’m not entirely sure passing to Hogsmeade on the main road is the best idea.”

James lifted a brow. “Why’s that?”

“Well er…” Peter went a bit rosy in the cheeks. “That’s where a lot of people are mugged.”

“Well we were mugged last night, and this time I’m prepared.” He gave his remaining sword a pat. “You forget how well trained I am.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Peter muttered. “It’s only I think it unwise of you to underestimate the people who live out here. Who do this professionally.”

James rolled his eyes and pushed forward, ignoring his nervous friend. Peter hung back, though, his eyes darting from side to side, and just as they reached the bend that would take them straight to the small trade village, James spotted something.

A fallen tree in the road, and a cloaked man who appeared to be in pain. “Help,” he called when the sound of the horses became apparent.

“Sire,” Peter said.

“Help please. I can’t see and I’m stuck!” The voice was light, airy and young, a man maybe a year or two younger than James was.

“Sire, really,” Peter hissed.

“Nonsense!” James said back. “Look at him. The fellow’s blind and trapped! I’m not going to be mugged by a blind man.” He pushed his horse to a gallop, then came to an abrupt halt to look down at wandering, stormy grey eyes. The man looked rather familiar in a way, though the hood put his face into shadow, but James wasn’t bothered.

He carefully stepped round the log, and knelt down. “Hey, are you al…”

The rest of James’ sentence was cut off by a swift kick to the backs of his knees. He lost his footing immediately, and he had a dagger pressed straight to his throat as the blind stranger hovered over him. He tried to reach out and knock the man off balance, but he quickly had his wrist pinned to the ground by a sharp boot.

“Reggie!” called a voice from the trees. “Did you get one? I was just telling…” The voice—the too familiar voice—cut off and was replaced by a near hysterical laugh. “Oh heavens, no. Not you two again!”

James’ head twisted to the side, even as he tried to dislodge himself. “You!”

Sirius. The gambler from the night before. Drugged or not, James instantly recognised him. “This seems almost unfair, you poor sod.” Planting his fists on his hips, he cocked his head to the side. “Reggie…did you find anything?”

Reggie, apparently startled by Sirius actually knowing his victim, let up just enough to tell James he was distracted. Which allowed James to grab him by the front and throw him to the side, landing him on his face. “Blind my arse,” he muttered, standing.

But the gesture went unappreciated by Sirius whose expression went dark, and he drew his sword. “If he’s hurt…”

“You’ll what?” James challenged, drawing is own. He took a step forward. “Pretending to be blind to mug people on the road is not on, you know.”

“And carrying round massive sacks of gold is just begging to be mugged.”

James rolled his eyes. “Your morals are astounding.” He thrust, and Sirius stepped back with a laugh, doing a small dance-like step. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Nor I you, James. Just your remaining gold, and this time I’ll let you walk away without having your body dumped in an alley.”

James, now unamused as well, began to fight in earnest. He had no intention of letting Sirius win, though he would let him free without being harmed. Sirius was not his mission. 

Sirius, however, was also as good as Peter had warned, and James had a feeling he might have met his match now on the road. They continued to fight, Sirius seeming to enjoy it more than James did. Twice James caught a glimpse of Reggie who was sat on the ground still, face tipped toward his shoes, pressing a sleeve to a cut on his cheek.

James felt bad, but not bad enough to give up.

Sirius was getting tired. He could see it.

James would’ve had this fight as well, if he hadn’t missed a step. If he hadn’t got arrogant and had paid attention. But Sirius took a playful thrust at him, and James at the same moment stepped on a root. He stumbled forward before Sirius had time to pull back, and suddenly the blade sank into his side.

Sirius face, were it not for James’ extreme pain and shock, would have been comical. The way he went too pale, the way he yanked back his sword which was now covered in blood. James felt instantly light-headed as he toppled to his knees, and the edges of his vision went black.

Was he actually dying? Out here on the dusty road like this?

His last thought as arms took him and pressed something firm to his side, was of his father. What would Fleamont do to learn of this? And what would happen to the Kingdom?

*** 

James was in and out of consciousness for days, though he didn’t realise it. An infection set in and he’d been taken to Sirius and Remus’ camp to be cared for. Each time he woke for treatments, he didn’t remember the last time he’d come to.

By the third day, he was starting to get better, though his fever was still raging. He opened his eyes when he felt something soft and cool press along his forehead, then down his face. Everything in the room seemed to have a warm glow, like a halo, and his eyes locked on the figure in front of him.

A young man, soft black hair falling into his eyes, a sharp jaw, full mouth. His slender fingers clutched a piece of wet, cool cloth that smelt like it was soaked in herbs, and it was brushing along his skin.

James couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, grabbing the man’s wrist who startled visibly. “Are you an angel? Am I dead?”

For a second, the stranger’s mouth quirked, and he shook his head. “You’re fighting off an infection in your wound. You don’t remember again?”

James frowned, then recalled the fight. Sirius. On the road. Being stabbed. He blinked, and tried to move, but searing pain shot up his side and he hissed. The stranger pushed him back to the makeshift pillow and shook his head.

“You’ll only reopen it, and this time you might not survive it.” 

Reggie, James’ brain supplied. This was Reggie. The fake-blind man on the road who had tried to mug him. Had he been this good looking the last time?

“Reggie,” he said aloud, and the man stiffened.

“It’s Regulus. Sirius only calls me that to upset me.”

“Sorry,” James mumbled as he settled back. He watched as Regulus’ fingers reached out, ghosting along several items on a table near the bed. After a moment, James realised something. “You actually are blind.”

Regulus froze, then barked a laugh similar to his brother’s. “Yes, I am.”

James blinked. “You…bested me.”

“Yes,” Regulus said slowly, “I did.”

“Bloody hell,” James groaned. “For all my training, and I get bested by a drunken gambler, and a blind man.”

Regulus went tense as he found the phial he was looking for, and turned to face James. “Being blind doesn’t make me incapable or useless.”

“Clearly,” James groused, then realised he’d offended him, and felt his cheeks go hotter than the fever with a blush. “I’m…I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, Regulus. I spoke without thinking.”

Regulus seemed startled by the apology, and shook his head. “It’s alright. You need to take this, though. It’ll make you tired again, but I think when your fever breaks, it’ll be the last one.”

“Are you a doctor?” James asked as he lifted his head. Regulus’ hand felt out, touching the corner of James’ mouth before he brought the phial to it, and tipped the liquid in. It tasted awful, and burnt fiercely, but a sort of numbness settled over his body, and his head started to float into the clouds.

“I’m not,” Regulus replied as he set the empty phial down, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. “I’m a bandit. But I’ve learnt a great deal on the road, as my brother and his ridiculous lover seem to find themselves at the wrong end of swords often.”

“Lover. Remus,” James said, his voice sounding far-off to his own ears. He grinned, then reached out and brushed his fingers down Regulus’ cheek. “Are you quite sure you’re not an angel? I don’t really believe in them, you know, but you may have convinced me. You’re beautiful.”

“You’re drugged,” Regulus reminded him.

“You were beautiful when I was fighting your brother. Beautiful when he was stabbing me.” Then James laughed, and he heard Regulus chuckle under his breath. “Angel. A bright star.”

Regulus shook his head, and reached out, pressing the inside of his wrist to James’ forehead before he smoothed away his hair. “Sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

James nodded, and did just that.


	2. Chapter 2

It was still another day before James felt well enough to sit up on his own and walk. Regulus was there often enough, helping him to the chamber pot, or giving him a quick wash down with warm water and fragrant soaps. But it was Sirius who found him trying out his legs again, and came into the room wearing a slightly sheepish smile.

“You lived.”

James gave him a careful look, then shrugged. “Seems I did.” His side was tender, but healing. The redness and swelling were all-but gone, and the fever had broken the day before. “No thanks to you.”

“Thanks to my brother and his clever thinking. I didn’t mean to stab you, you know.” Sirius curled his hands into fists and planted them on his hips.

James gave him a once over—the tight tunic, trousers, a quiver on his back which was empty of arrows. His hair was in the same plait, but in slight disarray, with a few leaves and sticks poking out. After a moment, James sighed and his hand went to his own hair, mussing it slightly. “I did know, actually. I fell.”

Sirius lifted an eyebrow, clearly having expected a further row on the matter, but when James relented, his shoulders dropped. “Well, you’re feeling better, so I expect you’d want to be on your way soon.”

James shrugged. “I might do, yeah. Though I was hoping for some…information.”

Sirius blinked. “What sort?”

“Well,” James said, then sighed as he pulled the chair out and sat. His side was a bit sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Have you ever heard of two bandits in this area? Padfoot and Moony?”

Sirius looked at him, then barked a small laugh. “I might have. Why do you ask?”

James shrugged. “Heard they were… causing a bit of trouble.”

Sirius’ face darkened. “And you don’t think their trouble is justified? Considering all things?”

James stared at him a while. “Justified? You know it’s talk of the kingdom they’re responsible for the economic crash, don’t you? That they…”

Sirius held up his hand. “There’s talk,” he said very slowly, “that Lord Riddle is openly plotting to overthrow the King. And that the King has no idea because he so closely surrounds himself with his advisors who have nearly all aligned themselves with Riddle, and are biding their time before there’s a takeover.”

James felt the blood drain from his face. “I haven’t…”

“Clearly you haven’t, if you’re as sheltered as you claim to be.” Sirius reached up, running his hands over the back of his plait and picked out a few of the leaves. “But he’s open about it. Recruiting an army. Death Eaters, they’ve called themselves.”

James’ throat went tight. “I…hadn’t heard. Erm. Where’s Peter?”

Sirius gave him a careful look, then shrugged. “Shall we go and see? Are you well enough to walk?”

James rose again, taking a few, sore steps, and nodded. “Am now. Thanks to your brother.”

Sirius chuckled under his breath, then beckoned James out of the small hut and out into the open. James’ breath caught, as he realised they were not in some cottage in the wood, or some tiny little village. This was…an encampment or something.

There were people all round practising sword-fighting, archers in trees, there were open cooking fires, and a smattering of more huts and tents everywhere. James realised this was more than a couple of bandits robbing people on the roads.

Turning to Sirius, he gave him a careful look. Before he could say anything, however, a whinny came from the side, and he turned to see a tall, broad redhead on his horse. She came to a halt, sliding off with a grin, and loped the reins round a tree branch.

“Oy, Padfoot,” she said, brushing her hands through her hair.

James blinked, then he looked sharply over at Sirius. “You?”

Sirius shrugged. “Me. How was the scout?”

The woman shrugged. “Nothing so far, but Dori’s tailing McCuliber right now. She and Marls will be back after sundown.” She finally looked over at James and looked him up and down. “So. He didn’t die.”

James’ jaw was tense. “Why are you on my horse?”

The woman let out a light, pretty laugh. “Peter said I could borrow it. Amazing stamina, this one.” She gave the horse a fond pat and he nickered and stomped his foot. The bloody traitor. “I’m Lily, by the way.”

“James,” he said, his voice belying his daze. “And where’s Peter?”

“In his house, I reckon.” Lily nodded toward several huts in a row, and James felt something twist in his gut. Confusion. And worry. Lily, however, paid no mind to his expression. “I’m going to wash up and eat.”

“Which one is Peter’s?” James demanded, rounding on Sirius.

The bandit hesitated. “Listen…”

“Which one.”

Swallowing, Sirius pointed out exactly where Peter was, and it was obvious the lodgings weren’t temporary. All thoughts of bandits, Padfoots and Moonys, and threats to the kingdom aside, James wanted to know how far Peter was in with all of this. And what all of this truly was.

Storming past a group of young people practising with long staffs, James went up to the door and marched in without knocking. Peter was there, sat at a small desk with a handful of unrolled maps, and he startled when James entered. He jumped to his feet, his cheeks dark with a blush.

“S-sire…”

“How long?” James demanded in a low voice. “How long, Peter?”

Peter swallowed, then ran a hand back through his hair. “A while. Nearly forever. I was born here.”

James felt the rush of betrayal hit so hard, his knees went weak, and he stumbled for a chair. When Peter tried to help him, James shook him off roughly. “You betrayed me. This is treason, you understand. Treason.”

“I know,” Peter whispered. “But Sire, please listen…it’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” James all-but shouted. “Isn’t it what I think? You get yourself a job for the king, a rapport. A friendship with his son. You let me confide in you, and you bring that information back…back here.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “That’s all true.”

James ran both hands into his hair, tugging at it, making it more wild than it had ever been. “How could you? I thought you…I thought you cared.”

“I do,” Peter said in a rush. “You don’t understand, James. Your father is blinded by his loyalty to his advisors. Malfoy is working with Riddle. Half of them are! They’re plotting to overthrow your family and none of us want that.”

James snorted. “You’re telling me a group of bandits are fighting to keep the king on his throne?”

Peter nodded sagely. “James, everyone loves your father. He’s fair, he’s a good man. His father before him was a tyrant—was like Riddle, and everyone’s terrified of that happening again. Riddle has been over-taxing the people, seizing crops and harvests, working his the people to death, and Malfoy has been lying to your father about it. This isn’t…we’re not just some bandits, James. We’re a revolution.”

James swallowed, hearing the utter sincerity in Peter’s voice he didn’t want to believe, because Peter had lied to him. His best friend. “I don’t…”

“We’re called the Order of the Phoenix. We’ve been working in secret, trying to take down Riddle and his mercenaries. But it’s difficult work, because you know the King will take Malfoy’s side over bandits. No matter what good we’ve done.”

James clenched his jaw, wanting to argue, but knowing Peter was right. His father was loyal to a fault. Always had been. He was democratic to a fault, and James had known it could be his undoing if he wasn’t careful. “What good have you done? The people are dying. Starving. Beaten. What good has any of it done?”

“We’re getting information on Riddle, something we can use to show your father that he’s been betrayed. Your father still has enough loyal Lords but it’s not enough. He needs to understand that Riddle is working against him.”

James blew out a heavy breath. “And Padfoot and Moony?”

“I didn’t want you involved,” Peter said miserably, taking a step toward his friend. “I care about you, Jamie. I do. You’ve been my best friend since your father took me in and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

James unconsciously rubbed at his side. “How many people have died for this revolution, Peter?”

“None. Your highness…”

“James,” he corrected irritably. “Unless you’ve told them all, of course.”

Peter shook his head. “No one, I swear. And no one has died for our cause. Not yet. And possibly not ever. Not if we don’t have to.”

James scrubbed at his face. “I need time to process this, Peter.”

“I understand. And James…I’m loyal to you. I swear. So if you want to leave, turn them all in…”

James immediately thought of Sirius’ stricken face when James had been stabbed. Of Regulus’ gentle care of him. Of Remus’ quiet determination. He shook his head. “I don’t want to turn them in, so don’t give me reason to.” With that, he stepped out and started walking.

There was a path, and a clearing, and after a while, James heard voices. As he came through thick brush, he saw a cloaked figure who looked like he was giving sword-fighting lessons. They were using practise wooden ones as most of the students there were quite young. The eldest was a girl, tall and gangly, fourteen at the most, clumsy as James watched her trip and fall, but her skill was good.

The teacher was cloaked, but after a moment James recognised Regulus, who was giving strict lessons. James knew these students would soon be more skilled than himself, if they kept it up. Regulus was barking instructions, and they were all following.

After a while, Regulus ended the lesson, letting his hood fall back away from his face, and he collected the swords, putting them all into an empty rain barrel near a tree. The children ran off, giggling, and James took the opportunity to walk over. He made sure to make noise, and he noticed a slight smile on Regulus’ face.

“Up and about, are you?”

James almost laughed. “Ah. Seems so. I wanted to erm. Apologise for embarrassing myself, and probably you.”

“With your over-use of ridiculous compliments.”

“True as they may be,” James admitted, staring at Regulus’ face, “I shouldn’t have been so forward.”

Regulus’ cheeks actually pinked a little as he reached for a long staff propped against a tree, and he took it in his hand. Swishing it a bit in front of him, he approached James. “You were drugged, it’s not your fault.”

James did laugh this time. “That’s kind of you to say. And you took good care of me. I…think I was in a bad way.”

“I’ve dealt with worse. Remus at least once a month comes back too near death for my liking.”

“Moony, right?”

Regulus startled, then shook his head. “Are you hungry? You’ve been on mostly liquids since your injury and it’s probably safe for you to eat.”

Blinking at the change in subject, James shrugged. “Alright.” He was about to ask where they would get food, but Regulus took the lead, guiding his way with his staff, expertly through the trees, and to a large, empty tent.

There was a low, carved table covered with food, and Regulus went over, taking two bowls and handing one off to James. Watching carefully, James stood back as Regulus examined all the food with the tips of his fingers, smelling a few things, and finally settling on some strange, yellowish fruit.

James went for bread and cheese, a pear on the side, then followed Regulus out of the tent, to a small fire burning nearby. They sat, backs against a large tree trunk, and ate in relative silence.

“Have you had this before?” Regulus asked after a bit, offering over his bowl.

James raised his brow at the small black seeds imbedded in the yellowy flesh. “Er. I don’t think so.”

Regulus laughed. “Taste it. It’s…a bit strange, but it’s my favourite. My mother used to get it for us when we were very little, long before our family lost our title. We can’t find it often, and it’s expensive.”

“Oh well, then I shouldn’t,” James began, but Regulus laughed again.

“Sirius got it at the market with the gold he stole off you, so you deserve a little.”

James flushed, then reached over and plucked a piece from the bowl. It was slimy, and had a strange smell, and when he popped it into his mouth, he gasped. The taste was strange, almost spicy and sweet. He didn’t like it, and yet he found himself wanting to eat more.

“Go on,” Regulus said after James’ continued silence, waggling the bowl at him.

Feeling foolish, James tipped a few pieces into his own bowl before muttering, “Thanks.”

Regulus leant his shoulder against James’ and they finished their small meal in relative silence. “Did Peter sell us out?” Regulus asked after some time of listening to the fire crackle, and the gentle sounds of the encampment as they went about their business.

James licked his lips. “That redheaded woman…Lily? She let slip Peter had a home here. I confronted him.”

Regulus set his bowl down, then let his forearms drape across his crooked knees. His face was tipped down toward the dirt, and James watched as Regulus’ eyes moved back and forth rapidly, seeing nothing. “So you know about my brother then. And Remus.”

“The bandits,” James said. “Though you are one as well. No one’s heard your name before.”

“They wouldn’t,” Regulus said. “I prefer it that way.”

James gave a non-committal hum as he finished off the last bit of his cheese, then set his bowl next to Regulus’. “I don’t entirely understand what’s going on here,” he confessed. “There’ve been so many rumours of your brother and Remus being responsible for the economic crash.”

“And they’re nothing more than that,” Regulus bit. “Our handful here at camp couldn’t destroy an economy. Not the way a Lord can, who has control of trade and taxes.”

James couldn’t argue. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d never liked Riddle, found him dodgy and slimy, but his father was so…trusting. He overcompensated for the terror his grandfather had caused, and it led them here.

“Riddle believes the Kingdom needs a stronger leader. One who doesn’t rule by democracy. One that will just assume he knows what his people needs. But he’s a madman. He’d chase people like you out, James.”

“Like me.”

Regulus turned his face toward James, his hand coming out, and he rubbed the backs of his knuckles across James’ arm. “People who look like you. Who came from a distant land before they took rule. Dark skin.”

“How’d you…”

“Sirius told me,” Regulus said. “He’d want us out too, you know. He wants to keep the Kingdom pure, as he calls it. Purge it of people he feels never belonged here. The retched part is that my parents agreed. My mother would believe all she needs to do is conform to what Riddle wants, and we’d be accepted. Sirius and I never accepted that, and she had us stripped of our titles and thrown out. That’s when we took up with Moony.”

James realised Regulus still had his hand pressed to his arm, and his whole body went warm and tingly. “I…Regulus I have to tell you something.”

Regulus’ mouth quirked up into a soft smirk. “I know… your highness.”

James nearly choked. “I…what. How erm…how did you…? Does anyone else…?”

“No,” Regulus said quietly. “Except Peter, I imagine. But I haven’t told my brother.”

“How did you…I mean. How did you know?”

“I recognised you,” Regulus said. He drew his hand down James’ arm, over the Prince’s knuckles, before drawing away slowly.

“I don’t know how to ask this without being impolite but…”

“I used to come when you’d speak publicly. It took me a moment, until you were on the ground and I had my knife at your neck, to realise who you were,” Regulus admitted.

James blinked, then turned full toward him and boldly reached out, brushing Regulus’ fringe away to better see his face. “That’s why you hesitated. Not because of your brother.”

Regulus chuckled and leant into James’ soft touch. “That’s why I hesitated. And you bested me then.”

“And your brother stabbed me, so vengeance was had,” James said playfully. He sobered after a moment, and took a breath. “Will you tell them?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus said. “Will you turn us in?”

“Unless I have a reason to,” James said quietly, still brushing his fingers through Regulus’ soft hair, “no.”

Regulus’ eyes closed and he leant his head back against the tree, taking in a few, deep breaths. “I’m glad you’re alright, James.”

James laughed and settled up against Regulus, letting his hand fall down to twin their fingers together, and he tugged him close. “All thanks to my Angel.”

Regulus snorted, letting his head drop onto James’ shoulder. “Your Angel. You’re mad, you know. The kingdom has a right to know what a soppy, mad fool they have for a Crown Prince.”

“And the kingdom has a right to know their blind bandit saviour kind of likes it,” James teased, and felt his stomach twist again when Regulus’ cheeks went faintly pink. “Are you…spoken for?”

Regulus’ mouth quirked up. “No, James. Why? Would you like to speak for me?”

“I might like to…to court you,” James admitted.

Regulus went a bit tense at that, at the seriousness in James’ voice. “You’re the Crown Prince, James. You’re going to marry royally, to have an heir. There’s no place for me.”

“Sod the crown,” James said forcefully.

“You’re only saying that because you’re outside the castle walls. Because you’re away from your father and your duties as future king. You’ll have to go back eventually, and when that happens, you know what you have to do.” He tried to pull his hand away, but James held fast.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel something,” he pressed.

Regulus let out a slightly bitter laugh. “I wouldn’t lie to you, so of course I can’t tell you that. But I’m not a fool. Even with a title, I wouldn’t belong. So there’s no point in hoping.” Carefully, he extracted his hand, but he let it trail up to James’ cheek, and he pressed his palm there. Leaning in, his lips brushed along the skin, catching the corner of James’ mouth before he pulled away. “We had this at least, didn’t we?”

James felt his breath catch in his throat, and he tried to stop Regulus from rising, but the bandit was too quick. He had his staff in hand, and was several paces away before James regained his composure, and by the time he had a voice to argue, Regulus was gone.

*** 

Clutching the pipe between his teeth, Sirius strolled out of his hut, puffing on the fragrant tobacco. He saw the cloaked figure huddling down on a log near the fire, and he couldn’t help his grin as he strolled over and took a seat. He gave his brother a nudge with his elbow.

“Is it because he survived?”

Regulus turned his face so Sirius could get a full glimpse of his scowl. “You know what it is.”

“Did you tell him I knew?” Sirius asked. He puffed the pipe a few more times, then pressed it into his brother’s hand. The small pile of tobacco glowed red in the dark light of the camp as Regulus took in a lungful.

“No. He thinks you and Moony are ignorant. For now. You’ll have to tell him eventually.”

Sirius sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face before taking the pipe back. “Moony’s on patrol tonight. Moon’s almost full. And you know there’s going to be a raid soon. They know where we are.”

Regulus’ jaw went tight. “Have you located the spy?”

“No.” Sirius tapped the ashes onto the ground, and stomped them out with his boot. “It’s not safe to have the prince here though, you realise. He’s a liability, and if the others find out—they may try and ransom him.”

Regulus went stiff at the thought. “He won’t leave without information. Peter said he left the castle on a supposed hunting trip, looking for information because he knew Padfoot and Moony weren’t responsible as his father’s been told.”

Sirius was a bit startled by that information. “Is that so?”

Regulus shrugged. “So says Peter. James has been arguing for you and your idiot lover now for months. And Riddle’s operatives inside the Counsel have been whispering in the King’s ear. It’s only a matter of time he mobilises against us.”

“Unless we have the prince on our side,” Sirius said.

Regulus licked his lips. “I agree. Unfortunately. But I may move up to the north camp. I don’t think I should be here.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know why,” Regulus ground out.

Sirius let out a small breath, and nudged his brother’s shoulder. “You know it’s alright to fancy him. He fancies you back. Mad for you, in fact.”

“He’s also the fucking Crown Prince of the Kingdom, Sirius,” Regulus bit, and tried to shove his brother away, but Sirius was unmoving.

“So? We were aristocrats who became bandits and took up with Remus Lupin, the bloody Lone Wolf. So I don’t entirely see the problem here.”

“You’re blinder than I am, then,” Regulus muttered. “Being disgraced aristocrats is one thing. Abdicating the thrown for a blind bandit is quite another.”

“And yet,” Sirius said quietly. “He’d do it. Because he looks at you the way I look at Moony.”

Regulus sucked in his breath, then after Sirius moved away from him, he rose. “It’s just not going to work. I’m going to talk to the others and see who wants to come to the north camp with me.”

“You’re making a mistake, Reggie,” Sirius called out, but his brother wandered off, pretending not to hear him.

Ten minutes later, the quiet sounds of feet on the mossy ground Sirius was trained to hear, interrupted his thoughts. He smiled and turned his head, just as warm arms came round him, and he nuzzled back into the embrace.

“I worried about you.”

“Because you’re foolish,” Remus said, right into Sirius’ ear before kissing the lobe. “You should have been sleeping.”

Sirius turned his face, nuzzling his nose into the side of Remus’ neck. “Can’t ever sleep without you. And had a small row with Reg.”

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes a bit. “Over what? I swear the two of you…”

“James.”

Remus stiffened. “Why’s that?”

“Because they’re in love with each other, but Reggie wants to leave for the North Camp because he believes he and James can never work.”

“He’s the sole heir to the throne, love,” Remus said, undoing the leather thong from the bottom of Sirius’ plait. He let his fingers wander into the soft, wavy locks, the way Sirius liked best. “It’s a bit…unfeasible.” 

“You’re unfeasible,” Sirius groused pointlessly, and Remus laughed. “He wants James, James wants him. I don’t see the problem here.”

“Maybe,” Remus said quietly, “being in the middle of a revolution and trying to protect the crown that might be convinced we need to be eradicated is a priority for your brother. And courting the heir to that throne which might crush him into the dirt, is a bit more of a risk than he’s willing to take.”

“I took every risk for you,” Sirius said, sliding to his knees and turning to face Remus. He cupped his lover’s cheeks, and leant in for a soft, gentle kiss. “And it worked out just fine.”

“After near murder, and capture, and even a little bit of torture.”

“Hardly torture. You were always too soft,” Sirius said, nuzzling Remus’ cheek before kissing him again. “I think that there’s place for love, even in the middle of revolution.”

Remus sighed. “You’ll always be hopeless.”

Sirius laughed and pushed himself back into Remus’ arms. “And you’ll always love me.”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, and held Sirius a little tighter. “I will.”

*** 

James quietly backed away from the couple, his head reeling with everything he’d seen and heard. Had he not been convinced that this revolution was in his father’s best interest before, he was now. Absolutely. And he would make his father see reason.

But he wanted Regulus to as well. Because he did love him. As foolish and fast as it was.

Deciding that he was going to take the risk, he headed off to Regulus’ tent, determined to make the bandit his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh the end. I rushed it a bit. I never meant for these Jegulus fest fics to get more than one chapter so I wanted to kind of hurry. Hopefully it's still decent. x

James made his way through the wood, and eventually came upon the horses. He wasn’t half surprised to see Regulus with a travelling pack, nor was he surprised when Regulus recognised the sound of his gait.

“James, please…”

James shook his head, walking closer. “I’ll renounce my throne. I don’t care about the kingdom.”

“Then you’re a fool,” Regulus spat. “And we’re doing this for nothing. We’re out here dying to protect your family line because you’re good rulers—you are, James. You’re going to be an amazing king some day, and there’s no one to replace you. You’re all they’ve got, and your father isn’t going to live forever. How can it not matter to you?”

James felt his heart twisting. “I’ve never been in love before.”

“You’re not in love,” Regulus spat, taking a step toward him. “You’ve known me a handful of days, most of which you spent unconscious.”

“And you spent by my side healing me,” James challenged.

Regulus lifted his chin, his gaze falling somewhere to James’ right, and he put his hand out. “I would have done the same for Remus or Sirius.”

“Whom you love,” James pointed out.

Regulus’ jaw went tight, but when James reached out and put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder, the bandit didn’t pull away. “James,” he breathed.

James crowded into Regulus’ space, and drew his hand from the bandit’s shoulder to his cheek, cupping it softly. “You feel for me.”

“I never denied it. But I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life pining after a man I cannot have.”

“Have me,” James begged, putting his nose right up against Regulus’ cheek. “I’m offering myself, everything I have. Have me.”

Regulus let out a strangled noise, and gripped James as though he was unable to stop himself. “I can’t. Why don’t you understand that? I won’t settle for being your whore.”

James flinched. “I would never…it’s not…”

“You have a duty that surpasses your heart. It’s the burden you were given upon your birth—the sole heir to the Kingdom. I would die for you, your highness. For more reasons than one. But I won’t sacrifice my heart and my dignity.”

James turned his face, running his lips lightly along Regulus’ cheek. “I will never love anyone as I love you. Ever. Do you hear me?”

“I do,” Regulus said with a choked laugh, and reached up, drawing his fingertips along James’ jawline. “It’s all I can do and it’s torture because you’re everything I deserve and cannot have.”

James tugged him even closer. “Kiss me. Kiss me and let me have this at least. And feel in it the promise that I would give up my throne, my title, my riches—everything. If only you’d say the word. I would appoint another man to sit as heir in my place and I would spend the rest of my days loving you.”

Regulus sucked in his breath, then used his hand to turn James’ face into the kiss. It was slow, soft, begging. Tongues sliding together velvet soft, warm, so slick. James’ lips fit against Regulus’ as they’d always meant to be there, and this profound revelation then that this was James’ first kiss. His first, and if it was his last with Regulus, it would be the only kiss that would ever matter in his life.

Regulus eventually tore himself away, still clutching onto James’ tunic, and he pulled James down until their foreheads rested together. “It’s agony, walking away from you.”

“So don’t.”

“I don’t have a choice. Because I’ve pledged my life and my freedom to protecting the Kingdom and that comes with you being there to rule it. But I do love you.”

James felt his knees threaten to buckle and it felt his his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. “Don’t go,” he all-but sobbed.

Regulus forced himself to peel away from the Crown Prince, taking a step back. “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

Before James could beg again, there was another rustle as two women stepped into the clearing. Lily and her lover, Marlene. Lily gave James a pointed look, clearly having heard what she shouldn’t have, but her eyes were sad.

“It’s time to go,” she said quietly.

“Where are you going?” James asked. “The North Camp? What is that?”

“Our second in command has a post there. Closer to Riddle’s manor. If there’s going to be a raid on our camps, they’ll be the first to know, and we can send a messenger.” Regulus hiked his pack up on his shoulder, and put his staff out in front of him. “Be safe, James.”

James’ throat tightened against his words, and he cleared his voice, knowing Regulus needed to hear him speak once more. “Send word that you’re safe when you arrive. Please.”

“We always do,” Lily said, and reached out, giving James’ arm a squeeze. “Don’t lose hope,” she added very softly. “Don’t give up.”

He nodded at her, then watched as the three of them wandered into the dark.

Fighting off the urge to put his fist into a tree, James wandered back to the now-empty fire, dragging his fingers into his hair and tugged on the messy locks. How had this happened? He’d gone from being the Crown Prince looking for information, to a man willing to give up his birth-right for another. And he couldn’t shake the feeling of Regulus’ lips on his.

He brushed across his mouth with his fingers, and then startled suddenly when there was a noise. He glanced over, and saw it was Remus who’d taken a seat next to him. He had a pipe in his hand, and was puffing on it slowly.

“Alright there, James?”

James swallowed, then shrugged. “Does it always feel this way?”

Remus quirked a brow, then puffed on the pipe before answering. “Love, you mean?” When James nodded, Remus let out a sigh. “No, not always. But Sirius might be better equipped to help you out.”

James snorted. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because before I wanted to admit I was in love with him, I ran away. Just like Regulus is doing. Came to my senses eventually, but not before a long, difficult struggle which ended with Sirius at the end of my sword.”

James couldn’t seem to help the laugh which bubbled out of his mouth. “Really?”

Remus grinned, nodding. “Really. It was a process.”

“So you’re saying don’t give up hope?”

Remus gave him a careful look. “I would never tell someone to stop hoping. However sometimes circumstance dictates that love isn’t enough.”

James let out a tiny breath. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know?”

“Who I am.”

They stared at each other for a while, then Remus shrugged. “Yeah. We know. Sirius, Regulus, and I,” he clarified. “And when it came to Sirius and myself, neither one of us were the Crown Prince. And Regulus won’t settle for less than he deserves.”

“I would never offer him less,” James vowed. “There has to be a way.”

Remus pursed his lips. “So find it. Then offer it to him.”

James couldn’t help a smile. “Simple as all that, eh?”

Remus chuckled, then opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a small doe came hurtling through the trees. She stumbled a bit, and attempted to run off, but Remus was too quick. He had her about the neck, and when James thought for a second Remus was killing her, he rose to stop him.

Then the bandit turned, a bit of parchment clutched in his hand. “SOUND THE ALARM!” he cried.

Suddenly a horn blared through the camp, and as Remus lunged for a bow and quiver, an arrow zinged past James’ head, barely missing him. He realised then they were under attack, and he rose, wincing at the pain in his side.

Remus turned to him, his amber eyes narrow with fury. “James, you can’t fight. Not properly. By the food tent, gather the children and protect them.”

Just then, Sirius came, sword brandished, and he shoved James’ sword at him. “Go,” he hissed.

James didn’t need telling twice. There were too many children in the camp, and he’d be damned if any of them got hurt. In spite of the pain in his side, he ran, and as he saw children poking their heads out of tents and huts as their parents took up arms, he grabbed them, shepherding them to the safety of the food tent.

“Keep quiet,” he hissed. “Take shelter under tables.”

The fourteen year old that had been training with Regulus, held a sword, and she flipped a table up. “Behind here. I’m going to…” She started to move forward, but James grabbed her wrist. “Let me go!”

“No. Listen erm…”

“Tonks, call me Tonks,” she said. “I’m Sirius’ cousin.”

“Well Tonks, you’re also a child and trained or not, I’m supposed to be protecting you. You want to help, you help me guard these kids.” James looked over at several of them who were huddled down, terrified. One boy in particular, messy hair, and eyes as green as moss, with skin as dark as James’, had his thumb in his mouth, and was crying silently.

“That’s Lily’s nephew,” Tonks said. “Harry. His mum and dad and brother were killed and she took him in.”

James knelt down and put his hand on Harry’s head. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to protect you.”

Harry closed his small hand round James’ finger and held tight. Feeling for the boy, he sat on the ground and gathered the toddler to his chest, holding protectively. He hated that he wasn’t fighting, that he was inept because of his wound, but at least at the moment, he was doing good.

Then, something erupted into flames. He could hear screams of pain, and everything seemed to be catching fire. Tonks gave James one look, then went running out into the chaos. Swearing, James handed little Harry off to one of the older kids. “Keep them here. I’m going to get her back.”

Rushing out into the smoke, James’ eyes narrowed as he tried to find the girl. It took several moments, but he saw her triumphant as she managed to take down a masked man. She turned to see him, giving him a smile, and it was then James saw it. A bow cocked back, pointed straight at her.

The masked man loosed the arrow, and he acted. He flung himself in front of her, shoving her to the side, and it grazed his shoulder. Tonks let out a cry as she hit the ground, but James turned, grabbing her sword, and managed to gut the man before he could go.

It was his first kill, but now it was kill or be killed.

He went to stand again, but his vision swam, and his arm burnt like it had been set ablaze. Not wanting to look down, he scrambled to his feet, and glanced over to see the food tent suddenly going up in flames. Sirius was shouting orders, and Remus. They had the masked men backed down and retreating, but the children were in danger.

James ran, and managed to make it inside, gathering the dozen of them out the back door just before the entire tent collapsed under the burning wood. He got them to a shelter of trees when another wave of dizziness hit him, and he fell to his knees, clutching his arm.

Harry’s tiny hand touched him as he curled onto his side, and the boy snuggled in next to him as James fought for consciousness. Everything started going back, and he was sure this was it. 

This was death.

*** 

He woke with something pressing to his lips, and he swallowed instinctively. It was a thick, ugly liquid, but his head went clear, and he realised the burning in his arm had stopped. Cracking open one eye, James blinked up at the green eyes of Lily. Her dark olive face was hovering over him, her teeth poking over her bottom lip as she grinned.

“Still with us, your highness?”

“Everyone knows now?” James rasped.

“Fraid so. Seems as though you’ve been kidnapped by the famous bandits.”

James grumbled, attempting to sit up. “Ah. Who er…said that?”

“Riddle,” Lily said. “One of his men got you with a poisoned arrow. Snake venom.”

James grit his teeth, and glanced over at his ugly wound. “And I’m…alive?”

“Turns out Regulus is very determined when he’s in love. He and Sirius somehow made it to Riddle’s camp for the antidote. Sent it back with a messenger. And here’s the crux, that fool-headed boy went and got himself arrested for treason. Riddle’s dead, and his men are pinning the whole thing on the bandits. The kingdom currently thinks you’re dead. Regulus included.”

James’ head spun as he sat up, and realised he wasn’t alone. The small, green-eyed boy was still clinging to him. “I…”

“He’s taken with you,” Lily said with a laugh. “Anyway so I need you to get up off your arse and go save his life, because they’re planning a public beheading.”

James felt his heart thudding against his chest. “My father’s never executed anyone in his life.”

“Yes well, seems like the death of his son is a mind-changer.”

James managed to divest himself of the child, and he rose, his legs shaky. “Will I make it to town?”

“Marlene’s ready to ride with you, but you have to be swift. If he does, your highness, you’ll be next.”

“I would welcome it,” James said, blindly reaching for a cloak hanging near the door. “I don’t want to live in a world he isn’t in.”

Lily’s gaze softened, and she pressed a dagger into his hands. “Go. I know you’ll make it.”

Somehow, his determination overcame what was left of the poison in his system, and James managed to make it to the stables where Marlene was waiting. She helped James mount up behind her, and together they took off at a fierce gallop.

James felt fear gripping him, every time he thought of Regulus’ head on the chopping block. But he refused to believe he was too late. He refused to think that it could all be over, before it began.

Riddle was dead. Riddle was dead, and with any luck, James could stop a revolution before it began. His father’s throne would be safe, and so would the love of his life.

They reached the city walls in less than an hour, and James jumped from the horse, pulling his hood up as he ran. He could hear the commotion in the town square, and by the sounds of the speaker, he wasn’t too late.

Yet.

He had to muscle through the crowd, and as he got to the front, he saw it. Regulus in chains, hands behind his back. His unseeing eyes fixed over the crowd. His cheeks were stained with tears, and he was putting up no fight as his head lay on the block.

Sirius was nearby, watching in silent horror, also bound, likely awaiting his own fate. He could see his father from high above, on the balcony, watching, his face stricken with the thought that his son had died at the hands of these men.

The executioner raised his sword, and James acted without thinking. He took Lily’s dagger and threw it. It hit the executioner in the hand, the sword falling, and James threw back his hood. “Enough!” he cried.

He heard his father shout from the balcony as the guards drew their weapons until they realised who was stood before them. “At ease,” James commanded.

The balcony was empty now, his father likely rushing to meet him, and James approached the block. “Release him,” he said, pointing at Regulus whose eyes had gone wide, breathing frantic. Sirius was gaping, as James pointed at him. “Release him as well. They’re not criminals.”

The doors flung open, and James was suddenly pulled into a fierce embrace, both parents in formal robes, crowned and all, hugging him. “I’m alright,” James said softly, pushing them away. “I’m…we clearly need to speak. But I’m alright. I’m alive.” 

Fleamont touched his son’s cheek, then looked back over to the bandits who were being unbound, though neither made a move to run. “Bring them to holding chambers,” the King ordered. “I need a word with my son.”

*** 

Twenty minutes later, James had spilt the entire story. Of Riddle—which had Fleamont dispatching his most trusted Knights to gather information against Malfoy and the others. Riddle might have been dead, but it didn’t mean the Death Eaters were standing down.

He told his father of his plans, of Padfoot and Moony, of the revolution’s determination to keep the Potters in possession of the throne. “I know it sounds mad,” James began, but Fleamont silenced him with a raised hand. 

“It’s my fault. I was so absorbed in trying to give out equal power that I lost sight of my people.”

James swallowed, then winced as the wounds of his travels began to make themselves known. He ached for a proper bath, and a proper meal, and a proper bed. But mostly he ached for Regulus’ arms round him. 

“Did he not tell you he was innocent?” James asked softly. “The blind bandit?”

Fleamont shook his head. “He merely stated he was responsible for your death, and offered himself up. I was stricken. I couldn’t believe…” his voice choked up. “My son…”

James let out a breath, then squeezed his father’s hand. “They’re criminals, but they had no choice. I want them pardoned. And if possible…I would like their titles restored.”

Fleamont blinked. “Their titles?”

“Blacks. They’re the Blacks.”

“Walburga and Orion?” Fleamont asked with wide eyes.

James nodded. “I just want Sirius and Regulus to have their titles restored and I…” James swallowed thickly. “I’m in love with him.”

Fleamont blinked, startled. “With whom?”

“Regulus,” James admitted. “I’d be…I’d be willing to give up the throne for him. I’d be willing to do anything. He saved my life more than once and I…”

Fleamont put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re alive, and that’s what matters. And if it’s love…” He glanced over at his wife who was watching with careful affection. “If it’s love, then have it. Have your Kingdom and have him.”

“And no heir?” James asked.

Fleamont laughed. “There’s more than one way to have an heir, my boy. I’m not my father. I would rather you be happy.”

James flushed, then let his father and mother embrace him once more before he made his way to the holding chambers to—he hoped against hope—win Regulus’ heart.

*** 

James opened the first door, and found Remus and Sirius clutching at each other. They both looked up when he entered, and gave him a formal bow. Waving his hand, James shook his head. “We’re a bit beyond that, don’t you think.”

“We’re in your castle, sire,” Remus pointed out.

James snorted. “And I was near death in your hut just hours ago. You saved my life.”

“My fool brother did,” Sirius spat. “We went after him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like offer himself up as a bloody martyr for love.”

James sighed, scrubbing his face. “You thought me dead?”

“Last report was the venom had stopped your heart,” Remus admitted. “Marlene I suppose sent word after they’d revived you, but it never reached us.”

James scrubbed his hand down his face. “Did you find your traitor?”

“Snape,” Sirius spat. “The two faced, bloody coward. He was stricken by Riddle’s snake before Regulus took them both down. It’s over.”

“It is,” James confirmed. “My father is restoring your title and wealth, if you’d like it. I’m going to…to ask your brother for his hand.”

Sirius blinked at him, then looked over at Remus. “I don’t want anything my family touched.”

“Then use it for good,” James said. “Give it to the people. Someone worthy. That little cousin of yours.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Nymphadora.”

Remus smacked him on the arm. “Tonks. And that could be useful. I suppose. But I have to ask how you plan to marry a man, your highness.”

“James,” he corrected again. “And with my father’s permission. You were right about him, he is a good man. And as for an heir…” James’ mind went to Lily’s nephew, and wondered how much convincing it would take for her and Marlene to move into the castle and raise the boy there. “I’ll figure it out. We have time.”

“Well,” Sirius said, and walked over, clapping James on the shoulder. “He’s waiting for you. Nearly killed him, you did.”

“Well I suppose we’re a matching set, then,” James said, and with a parting wave to the bandits, he turned and left.

The next room over was a mere few feet, but it felt like miles as he crossed the stone and reached for the door handle. He didn’t know what he’d do if he was rejected, but he could no longer wait for an answer. Pushing against the heavy wood, he stepped inside.

Regulus was stood beside a chair, his back to the door, and when it opened, he spun. His hands were clenched into fists, and he looked uncertain of his steps in the unfamiliar space. James didn’t let him wait long, crossing the floor and gathering him to his chest.

“My angel. My bright star,” he whispered.

Regulus let out a small sob, clutching at James’ front. “You…had died.”

“I suppose I did. I don’t remember it though. Only Lily’s barmy drink and her hauling me to my feet to save your arse.” James didn’t realise he was crying until he heard the tears soaking his voice. He pressed a fierce kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, holding tight.

A hand crept up, touching James’ cheek, his mouth, the side of his neck. “You’re really here. It’s not some…fantasy as my head’s being lobbed off?”

James laughed and pinched Regulus by the chin, turning his face up, and he kissed him. Slow and desperate, needing to feel him, to experience him and never let go. “I’m here,” he murmured against the soft lips refusing to back away from his own. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll have you rule by my side. Marry you. Love you. Please.”

Regulus sniffed, then cupped James’ cheeks with both hands. “Yes, you bloody fool. I’d allow myself to be beheaded just to avoid living in a world you’re not in. So yes.”

James pulled him tight, and kissed him fierce once more. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to let you say no.”

*** 

**Epilogue**

James laughed as a small pair of legs carried the toddler round the table, and out of the room. Lily let out a sigh, throwing her napkin beside her plate. “Be back, shall I?”

“You know dear,” Euphemia said with a grin, “you can let the nannies handle it.”

“Ah, I prefer to do it on my own.” She gave Marlene a wink before sauntering out after the excitable toddler.

Marlene laughed, leaning into Euphemia, as the two had become inseparable. The King and Queen, who had been blessed with one child but had always wanted more, couldn’t be happier now that the castle was full of those they now considered their own.

Harry had been officially named Heir Apparent and the public ceremony had gone without a hitch. The Death Eaters under Riddle’s employ had all been sent to the prison in the North Sea, and the kingdom had settled back into the peace the Potter dynasty had achieved under Fleamont’s rule.

The first wedding between two men had been carried out under the King’s blessing, and when Regulus was crowned alongside James, the Crown Prince openly wept before going against all tradition, and kissing him soundly in front of their cheering subjects.

Now they had settled into their routine, and although at time Regulus wandered back to the camp to visit Sirius and Remus who had not abandoned their small village of bandits—though they gave up robbery, and Sirius carried on his gambling habits for fun instead of mugging—they were happy together. He and James snuck away often, though they enjoyed raising the small boy who would one day rule after James.

Excusing himself from the table, James took Regulus’ hand, and together they wandered into the back gardens. There was a heavy storm looming ahead, which left the rain sweet smelling on the breeze as they went to their favourite spot near the fountains.

Regulus curled up into James’ arm, his fingers ghosting up James’ sleeve to touch the thick scars from the venom. “Some days I still fear I’m going to wake up, and this will all have been some dream.”

James carded his fingers into Regulus’ hair, and closed his eyes. “I know what you mean. I have nightmares of you walking away sometimes. Or of me not reaching the town square fast enough. I…they’re not pleasant.”

“But they’re not real,” Regulus murmured, and turned his face up for a soft kiss.

It was broken by a small body hurtling toward them, plopping into Regulus’ lap. Harry giggled, and snuggled in until Regulus wrapped one arm about the boy. “Dada,” Harry muttered.

Regulus gave a hum. At first they had attempted to correct the boy, but Harry now believed everyone in the castle was a parent of some sort, James adopting Papa, Lils and Marlene both Mumma, and the only ones who got different were his Pada and Moon who visited as often as they could.

James grinned at the sight of his husband and adopted son curled up together, and he pulled them tight to his body. The thought he might not have had this at all was a frightening one, but he consoled himself with knowing that the future ahead of them was vast, and that he would forever cherish the love he had between his arms now.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was most certainly heaven-sent.


End file.
